Old and New Traditions
by Cloudsinmycoffee9
Summary: Cora and Robert celebrate Christmas together. Set Season 6ish. Mild M to be safe. Cobert Christmas Fic Exchange! My word was "warmth" and my photo was a poem with holly on it.


Morning came sooner than he'd expected. He could have sworn he had just settled back on the pillows. He had thought he would be too excited to sleep, as anxious as he was to give Cora her present. But a few too many celebratory drinks after dinner (a few too many these days still being far less than the days before his ulcer episode, but he'd promised Cora) had seen him sent to bed with a chuckle and an indulgent kiss on the cheek from his wife.

"Promise you'll be up soon?" he'd whispered, or attempted to whisper, into her ear. "We have some traditions to uphold, you and I." The hand he'd passed down her backside must not have been as subtle as he'd hoped, because he'd heard Mary's "Goodness, Papa," as she tittered with Henry in a corner.

"Robert, darling," Cora had cooed back at him, grabbing his errant hand in her own and holding it firmly in a much more appropriate place in the space between them. "I want to chat with Edith a bit more about the wedding details. But you've had more to drink than normal and I don't want you feeling poorly in the morning, you understand. I'll be up soon to put you to bed."

His "Do you promise?" had sounded a little whiney even to his own ears, but she'd indulged him. "I promise, Robert. I'm looking forward to traditions, too." She looked at him meaningfully and then tilted up her chin for a kiss. "Now, shoo. I'll be just a minute."

The walk up the stairs had been a little more difficult than usual, and he knew the drink was making him chatty with Bates as he'd dressed for bed, but he hadn't expected to fall asleep before Cora came in and he hoped she wasn't cross with him. They were getting older now, he reasoned. She'd understand.

He groaned a little, his head protesting slightly from the previous night's overindulgence as he turned to snuggle up to Cora, sorry to have missed her coming to bed and ready to make it up to her in their traditional way. But to his surprise, when he opened his eyes to her pillow, he was met with only an indent and the covers pulled back slightly to indicate she'd been there at all. He fell back on his side, staring at her spot, disappointed. He had thought, of all mornings, she'd be sure to stay in bed with him.

It was usually always Cora who would snuggle up to him to warm herself - her toes digging beneath his legs and her hands wrapping around his middle as she pressed kisses to his back, burrowing her nose between his shoulder blades. He would tease her about her thin American blood, and she would pretend to be annoyed by it in their usual back and forth way. He not so secretly liked their long-standing joke and how it usually led to other ways to warm each other up. But now it was Robert who now felt cold, and a bit frustrated and lonely as he glanced once again to her empty side of the bed and then up at the ceiling.

He felt he'd come to terms with her working at the hospital, although he did lament the timing, as it seemed to unfortunately coincide with the decline of his importance and influence around Downton. Mary and Tom ran things so efficiently and he almost felt like they only informed him of goings on about the estate, instead of actually wanting or needing his opinion on anything. Everything was always "just as I thought," from Mary, or politely contradicted and redirected by Tom. Robert saw his star falling just as Cora's seemed to be rising again, just like during the War . . .

He was terribly proud of her, he was, truly. And he knew he was being selfish in wanting her home more, simply to keep him company, when she was perfect for the position and helping so many. But of all mornings to be away, working, he assumed, and leaving without waking him or a note . . . he sighed again and knew he was being childish. He knew it irritated her and resolved against it. _Oh well,_ he thought to himself, _I might as well get up and get dressed. Perhaps I'll stop being such a grumpy old man and bring her a cup of hot cocoa_.

Despite his resolve, a small niggling of doubt remained. Would she even want this gift he was so anxious about? he wondered. He'd debated endlessly over what he wanted to get for her. After nearly forty years together, there seemed very few things in this world that might surprise. But he'd consulted the girls, and they'd agreed, even encouraged him and helped organize certain details.

But perhaps the risk he was taking with this present was too great. Perhaps it was a terrible idea, terrible timing. And she seemed thrilled to have her occupation at the hospital, so excited about the changes they were making and her role in orchestrating it all. Perhaps it had been a foolish idea, an idea born from conversations and desires from so long ago that might have fallen by the wayside and no longer meant as much as they had before . . . or perhaps meant nothing at all now.

Well. Not much to be done now, he reasoned. The girls knew about the idea, so there was no turning back, despite the auspicious beginning to the day.

But just as he had resigned himself to sliding into his slippers and robe and starting his day much earlier and in his opinion, a much duller way, he heard the soft click of the door and the quiet padding of Cora's slippers crossing the threshold. He lay quietly not knowing what she was about to do. For some reason he felt compelled to watch her without saying anything as she was clearly trying to sneak back into the bedroom, thinking he was still asleep. He spied a small wrapped package in her hands, and one larger, rectangular one as she slowly turned and closed the door behind her before tiptoeing over to the mantle.

He continued watching through hooded eyes in silence as she set down her parcels on her vanity and removed her robe. He smiled, admiring the light through her nightdress and how adorable she looked, braid tumbling over her shoulder and a shoulder peeking from her gown, desperately trying to not make a sound as she slowly slipped the tiny offering into his stocking that hung on the mantle. All remaining traces of disappointment or frustration in him disappeared entirely and a warm feeling of great tenderness grew within his chest as he continued watching her. Looking again at the larger rectangular package she held, she turned it over in her hand, weighing it, and seemed not to know what to do so she simply placed it gently on her nightstand. Still moving as if she thought him asleep, she pulled back the covers and crept in.

He heard her sharp intake of breath at the coolness of her sheets, and felt her cautious dip in the bed as she rolled slowly towards him, and suddenly he could stand it no longer and he reached out quickly to pull her to him.

"Robert!" she gasped, rolling completely into his side. "Were you awake and watching this whole time?" He could hear the smile in her voice. "You cheat!" she hit him lightly on the chest before propping herself up to look at him. "And here I thought I was being so sneaky!"

He chuckled lightly and leaned forward to press his lips against her forehead. "No, no, you were very stealthy. It's not your fault your husband misses you the moment you slip away."

"Please. You were sound asleep and snoring when I left. But I simply had to."

"Had to what?" he asked, confused.

She sighed deeply against him before snuggling further into his side.

"You know very well, and I know it grieves you as much as it grieves me, that it might be their last Christmas to wake up together, all together."

"What -" he started to say. Then his heart caught up with his mouth suddenly, thinking over her words and realizing how very true they were. Marigold would leave soon with Edith, Tom had been preparing a cottage for he and Sybil for almost a year now. Cora was right - this was probably the last Christmas they spent all together under one roof.

"Golly. You're right. I don't like to think of that," he admitted.

"I know, darling. But we must make the best of it. Mary and Edith both warned me against spoiling the children, so, as I'm sure you guessed, I had to sneak around this morning to get their gifts into their stockings. And oh, Robert, how precious they looked sleeping in their little beds. I haven't been to the nursery in the morning ages. I'd forgotten how special that time is when they're asleep."

"And how quiet that time is," Robert added, but when she looked at him in indignation, he saw in her eyes that she knew he was teasing, and her features softened back into a smile.

"Well, yes. Blessedly quiet. And good for Nanny. But you and I both know how much you enjoy all the fun and games in the house again with our sweet grandbabies." She reached up to run her fingers lightly through the hair at his temples. "Do you know, darling, sometimes, mostly when I am laying here in bed with you, I forget how old we must be. I can't believe we have grandchildren, Robert."

"Neither can I, especially when I am mostly just thinking of how young I feel when we usually ring in Christmas, the two of us, and how this year you left me cold," he grumbled good-naturedly.

She pulled back, shocked. "Left _you_ cold? Hm? Just who exactly was completely asleep when I came up the stairs only a half hour after you last night? If _anyone_ was left cold on Christmas - "

"Mea culpa, I know," he smiled, somewhat guiltily, hands reaching to tickle her lightly at her ribs. "Too many toasts, I suppose. I was surprised to wake up this morning and find it morning. I had so been looking forward to you all evening," he leered at her as she giggled.

"Well, we have the morning, of course," she offered, her voice dipping suggestively. "But first, since I went through all that trouble, we must do presents. But even before that - " she leaned in and kissed his nose lightly before kissing his lips, her hand coming up to run her fingers through his hair at his temples. "Before that, I would like a proper Christmas morning kiss from my darling husband," she whispered against his mouth, kissing him again.

"Happy Christmas, my most precious wife," he whispered back, his hands and arms pulled her more tightly against him as he returned her kiss, smiling as her mouth opened to his.

She pulled back after a few moments, and he grinned at the hazy look in her eyes. "That was nice," she murmured. He reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, tracing his finger down to her jawline and placing it on her lips. She kissed it in appreciation, still watching him through hooded eyes. "I know it's foolish, because it's been years, but a part of me still expects to hear the pitter-patter of feet rushing into the room at any moment, begging us to get out of bed and go look at the tree," she giggled in his arms. "We could go and join them, but I rather want those small families to start this day on their own. Do you agree? And we can join them in just a bit?" He nodded.

"Of course, darling. That's very wise of you to let them start making their own little traditions. I cherished those mornings with you and the girls. Let's let them have this to themselves. And then _we_ don't have to rush through anything, either."

"Mmm, good. I'm glad you agree," she lay her head on his chest. "This is very different than waking up before the crack of dawn like when the girls were little. There are some distinct advantages to being grandparents on a morning like this morning."

"There are some distinct advantages I want to take this morning . . . with someone who looks far too young and beautiful to be anyone's grandmother," he suggested playfully, running his hands down her back. She sighed in pleasure against him, shifting into his roaming caresses as they settled on her shoulders and began to rub against the knotted muscles there.

"That feels heavenly, darling," she managed, groaning softly at his touch. His fingers began pushing along her spine, into the muscles of her neck, massaging her scalp. She burrowed deeper into his chest, kissing his neck in appreciation.

"You're working too hard, Cor. You're quite tense under my hands," he whispered, kissing her hair.

"It is hard work, Robert, but I do enjoy it."

He didn't have an answer ready. His thoughts circled back to where they were this morning, and again he questioned his gift to her.

"Of course you do, my dearest one. The hospital is lucky to have such a faithful and talented woman such as yourself as president."

"Do you really think so?"

She looked up at him, her eyes hopeful, and he took the opportunity he missed far too often.

"Yes. I'm quite proud of you, Cor. Everyone has the highest praise for all you've accomplished at the hospital, and I'm so happy for you, my dear. Very well done."

She paused for a moment, looking down, and he saw the shimmering of tears at her eyelashes that lay dark against her pale skin. She held her breath for a moment before she looked back up at him. She was simply beaming at his words, holding his eyes in hers, until her fingers began twisting in the fabric of his pyjamas, and she pulled his lips closer to hers to kiss her thanks.

He silently thanked God for giving him the chance to say what he should have been saying all along, and again reminded himself to be more generous with his praise of her in the future. They'd been through too much to let a day go by when he didn't tell her exactly how much he appreciated her and all she had contributed not only to his life, but the life of everyone in and around Downton. Before he could make any other solemn promises to himself, she looked up at him, her eyes a blurred inch from his own, warm and full of love.

"Presents?" she queried.

"I can think of no present I need beyond you," he declared.

She scoffed at him, stretching up onto her hands to roll her eyes playfully, and he felt the mood change to something much lighter as her voice carried - "You say something similar every year, and yet, having watched you open gifts has me in disagreement with you. You are rarely as animated as when unwrapping a gift, Robert Crawley."

"Well, I know I say this every year, but I'm content to just lay here and unwrap _you_ , but if you insist . . . " She arched her brow at him. "Alright, I admit I am a bit curious as to what could have had you sneaking around our room this morning."

She grinned. "I have a small confession . . . I wouldn't have been sneaking, but three nights ago, when I said I had to stay in town at work to count the proceeds from the hospital holiday fundraiser? It was to pick up one of these gifts. It had only just finished, and I had to get it before Christmas Eve. Otherwise I would have had it wrapped and ready earlier, you see, if I could have. I so wanted you to have it on Christmas. I know you were annoyed I was missing dinner, but I hope you'll be pleased and understand why, once you open."

Robert felt a pang of guilt at the memory. He remembered the night, albeit was a little fuzzy around the edges with drink. Rosamund had just arrived that afternoon with the editor from Edith's paper. It seemed the girl they'd met at the racetracks that dreadful day of Charlie's death had struck up quite the friendship with Tom. After finding out she was planning on being alone at Christmas, Edith had invited her friend and employee to join the family for their celebration.

It had felt slightly awkward at the dinner table, Cora's normal place across from him held empty, in case she'd returned in time, and every lull in conversation made him slightly more irritated with her. He had been well annoyed, and a bit in his cups, when she'd rushed into the room after they'd gone through after the meal and then rejoined by the fire.

He remembered how beautiful and flushed she'd looked, having obviously hurried through changing, and the sparkle in her eyes as she'd approached him with a kiss on his cheek to ask forgiveness. But he'd made some offhand remark about her role of president taking time away from the family. The sparkle in her eye had died immediately, and he'd felt a sharp but bitter sense of satisfaction. She'd started to say something, he remembered, but then he'd turned away to pour another glass of whiskey. When he'd turned back, she was sitting next to Edith and the editor, but locked eyes with him briefly with a terribly sad expression on her face.

That night was the first night since his surgery they hadn't kissed before falling asleep.

He'd woken her up with a hug that she must have felt said "I'm sorry," with his kiss in her hair and his arms around her waist. She'd snuggled back against his chest briefly before turning her head to kiss his nose and whispering "Good morning, my grumpy husband," then reaching to ring for Baxter.

And now, Christmas morning, as she "confessed," he knew she wasn't purposefully trying to chastise him for his behavior from a few days earlier; she was simply explaining what she was now able to explain. But in light of his thoughts from the morning, he felt it all the same. And he determined to be excited about whatever present she had purchased for him, no matter what it was, to try in some small way to make up for his previous words and actions.

"Anyway," she continued, sliding out of his embrace, stepping to the mantel and reaching for his stocking, "I'm sure you can guess what might be in here, since you were apparently spying on me as I slipped it in this morning." She looked back at him, smiling as he feigned innocence.

"Why, Lady Grantham. That is a weighty accusation. I would never."

"Nevermind. You might be able to guess what it is by the shape, but I did have it made special. Go ahead, I know you're desperate to open it."

"Another kiss, Cora," he asked, and she snuggled against his chest before she granted him one, their lips meetly warmly for a moment before her hands tucked their way around him. He settled against the pillows and set to searching down into the stocking before his fingers met the small package he'd seen her hide earlier. He brought it to the surface and knew immediately it had to be a snuff box, as he'd guessed. But he unwrapped the simple paper job - Cora must have attended to it herself, he mused - and revealed what was an absolutely unique one.

"They make them specially in Birmingham now, you can order exactly what you like," she explained, as he turned it in his hands, admiring the handiwork. "I had drawings sent in weeks ago - did you know Tom has quite a hand at sketching? Anyway. I hope you love it as I do." She settled in further to his side as he muttered appreciative words over the box, a weighty, silver make with a most impressive likeness of Downton Abbey etched into the top. There was a border of ivy and holly around the sides, and the corners of the legs were beautiful decorated with leaves and holly as well. It was a picture of the Abbey just as the first snow was coming in, with the subtle beginnings of snow drifts appearing at the bottom of the building and in the foreground, and snowflakes that patterned the edges of the box.

"Cora, thank you," he turned and kissed her forehead. "They captured Downton so precisely. How well done it is! And absolutely unique. I will prize it above all the others in my collection. Thank you so much, my darling."

He could just catch the edges of a blush and her smile in pleasure at his words, and his heart warmed to see it. She turned into his neck and kissed him there, and he was about to set the box aside and insist she open her own gift from within her stocking, when she bid him to open the snuff box and see what was inside. He lifted the lid gently and there was indeed a tiny card with her sweeping cursive "Robert" on the front of it. He unfolded it and read the small poem enclosed:

"Bright as glows the holly berry

Bright as gleam its pointed leaves

Be the gladsome spells that merry

Christmas round your fireside weaves.

Ever yours,

Cora"

Before he could open his mouth to thank her again, she'd propped herself up on her elbow to look at him. "I love that verse, and I chose it to tell you, well," she glanced away shyly before looking back at him, her fingers toying with the buttons of his pajamas. Her eyes followed the motions of her fingers, and he reflexively reached up a hand to smooth down her hair to calm her. She smiled appreciatively at him before continuing. "Darling, you're being so generous and supportive of my being at the hospital odd hours, and maybe it's not what either of us had pictured for this part of our life, but I am so thankful that you've let me take this opportunity to be useful." Her voice broke a little over her words as she continued speaking, and he felt his heart clench in his chest. "My life is blessed, and no part of it would be so beautiful without you."

"Oh, Cora. My sweet, sweet Cora." He pulled her to his chest and held her tightly, feeling her mold against him.

She returned his embrace just as fiercely, but then pushed herself up on her elbow again, reaching behind her to the package on the nightstand and bringing it around to place on his chest. "And this wouldn't fit in your stocking, but it goes along with what I was saying when I think of the things I cherish in this life with you."

He shifted up higher on the pillows so he could sit up and take the larger package in his hands. She moved to sit up next to him as he turned it over to search for the edges. "I should probably be insisting that you open yours before I open a second one, Cora. You'll spoil me."

"Don't I always?" she grinned up at him.

"You do," he answered, kissing the tip of her nose. She leaned her head against his shoulder, an arm around his middle as he slid his fingers under the edge of the paper and revealed a deep brown wooden frame that held two pictures side by side. It was folded closed, but Robert could see it was designed to stand up independently, with the photographs angled towards each other, perhaps on a desk. He opened it eagerly, as he could guess it held a picture of the grandchildren. His eyes fell first to the picture on the right, and then slowly transferred over to the picture on the left, before drifting back again. Time stood still for a moment and his breath seemed to leave him as he felt a sense of deja-vu, and then Cora started to speak.

"I was going through old things," Cora began quietly. "And I came across this wrapped in paper and an envelope. I sent a smaller version to you, as you were away. You remember, don't you darling? And I think I'd intended to give this larger one to Mama, but somehow it never happened. I can't believe I never had it framed properly, but it was such a - a busy time." She shifted against him. "I can't tell you what a time I had getting the girls to sit still for the photographer. Mary was so frantic . . . we hadn't heard from you in a few months, you see, and she was giving Nanny and me the most difficult time . . . Mary thought Edith's dress was too like hers, and Edith cried, and then they fought over where they were seated . . . we promised Mary and Edith the moon if they would just behave and smile in the same room together. And darling Sybil charmed everyone that day, of course, once I'd promised her some sweets."

He slipped his right arm back around his wife, still holding the frame up in his other hand, pressing his lips to her temple, listening to the faraway quality in her voice that sometimes happened when she mentioned the years he was away in the Boer War. It had been such a trying time for all of them.

They almost never spoke of it. But he remembered clearly receiving the letter she'd written him and a smaller version of the picture he currently held in a frame. He remembered looking at it every night, showing Bates, showing anyone who would look at his beautiful daughters. He remembered how desperate it had made him to return home, how he'd lit matches some nights, well after dark, just to gaze upon it again, saying their names to himself over and over, reminding himself of their birthdates, of their favorite toys and games they should play when he returned, of whatever Cora had mentioned of them in her letters. He remembered how he'd wished Cora had sent an updated portrait of herself, as well. He had a small one of hers that he always kept with him since their courtship, and it had rounded at the corners and grown thin to the touch because he'd held it so often in his hands. He also had a lock of her hair - a sentimental request he'd made of her on his last night at home before leaving for his first campaign. But how he'd longed for her face, to hold her in his arms, to kiss her lips and hear her say his name, to see the girls and to walk the grounds of Downton . . . but it had all felt so unreal and far away when he'd been huddled in a sweltering tent, thousands of miles away on the edge of a foreign continent . . . before he could slip further away into remembering those difficult years, Cora's voice brought him back to the present. He pressed her more tightly against him as if to keep himself grounded to her and to their present world as she explained her gift further in hushed tones.

She ran her fingers over the portraits of their daughters. "I'd forgotten about the picture, but it's such a vivid memory for me from that time. They're not quite the same ages, of course, but when I saw it, I just knew I had to have one for you of our grandchildren." She brushed her hand to the picture on the right, where George, Marigold, and Sybbie were posed in a similar fashion as their mothers were on the left. He glanced back and forth between the portraits of his daughters and his grandchildren, noticing the many resemblances between the mothers and their children.

He hardly knew what to think as his eyes roamed over the features of the people he loved dearest in the world. He felt a brief sense of nostalgia for the days when it was just he and Cora raising three small girls with small problems that they could usually solve with a hug and a kiss. He desperately missed Sybil, and felt the familiar wave of sadness that Sybbie would never know her mother except through the memories her father and aunts and grandparents could share with her. His heart ached for George and Marigold that they would never know the men who were their biological fathers, and especially for Marigold and the uncertainty that her life held.

He lay the frame down on his belly, reaching for Cora's hand and lacing their fingers together, he felt incredibly proud of the children and grandchildren he and Cora had brought into this world. And a sense of overwhelming love for the woman next to him, who had made all of it possible, who had made each trial and change bearable, who had loved him through all of it and given him a marriage and life beyond any of his expectations. His chest grew warmer and his heart beat faster as looked down at her.

He gazed over the streaks of grey he could see gathering in her braid, her defined cheekbones and the tiny freckles he thought of as secrets known only to him, her long eyelashes, the top of her pink lips he could just see. He looked further across to her shoulder, catching a hint of skin before following the thin stretch of her nightgown around to her hand, linked with his. He tugged on their linked fingers a little to pull her closer. She had been through so much as his wife, as the mother of their children. She'd given up so much to be by his side, but he could think of no one else on earth he could have been happier with or more in love with than his Cora.

"How right you were, my dearest one," he said softly. "Our life is very, very blessed. And here is the absolute proof. Thank you for this."

"Robert?" she asked after a moment.

"Time for your presents, hm?" he answered, moving to shake the covers back and retrieve her stocking.

"Well, yes and no."

He looked down in confusion as she looked up at him. "I was just wondering, would you mind sitting for a portrait for me? We could even do one together."

"Oh," he said, taken slightly aback. "If you truly want one, dearest. May I ask what for?"

"It's just...with everything that's happening, I want to be sure the grandchildren have something of us to take with them. I could have it framed for them to keep. For Mary and Edith, too."

He felt it in her tone, although she didn't say it. But it was not just that Marigold would be leaving soon when Edith married, or that Sybbie and Tom would be in a place of their own as well. Since his ulcer had burst, they'd had some quiet conversations, in the dark, where it was safe, and she had slowly opened up about how frightened she had been at the thought of possibly losing him. Robert had been terrified that night, of course, lying on the floor with his head and his blood on her lap, thinking it might truly be the end. But when Cora let down her guard to him in the weeks that followed, begging him to take better care of himself because she did not want to know a life without him, Robert had truly realized how scared she had been behind the strength and grace she'd showed throughout the incident and his recovery. He realized he shouldn't have been surprised at this, because the thought of something happening to Cora, of facing a life without her by his side, shook him to the core. And so he heard and understood the "just in case something were to happen" that she did not say. He would give anything to take away any pain or worry she ever felt, especially any that he felt were somehow caused by him. He could easily give her this.

She fingered the neckline of his pajama top before reaching up to stroke the hair behind his ears. "It's been so long since we've had one of just the two of us. And now I even have a special place to put my own. Now that I've a proper office and desk at the hospital, it would be so lovely to have your handsome face to look at every now and then," she added shyly.

"You still find me handsome?" he asked, quietly pleased.

"Very, very handsome," she agreed, kissing him.

"Very well, then. If you promise to sit for one of just yourself that I may keep with me. An update to the original."

"If you insist."

"I most certainly do insist on a new portrait of my beautiful wife. Especially if I have to sit for one," he grumbled playfully as she rolled her eyes at him. "And actually, if you retrieve your stocking, Cora, I think you might find something in there that would look rather nice in a new portrait."

She raised her eyebrow and smiled. "So I've been good this year?"

"Very, very good, as usual." He punctuated his remark with his hands caressing their way down her back and ended with a squeeze on her bottom. She giggled as she got up to fetch her stocking and he sat up again on the pillows, placing his picture frame out of the way on his nightstand. "There is something in there, and I do hope you'll like it, but there is also something else for you. However, since the girls helped me somewhat, I've agreed that they get to be there when you open it. So you'll have to wait for that part until we're all downstairs."

"Really? I can't decide if I should be excited or nervous." She made her way back under the covers, sticking her toes under his calves as she sat against his side. She reached into the bottom of her stocking and pulled out a square package, wrapped in beautiful red paper decorated with a silver ribbon.

"Excited, I hope, but open these first," he smiled as she carefully ran her fingers under the edges of the paper and began to lift it from the velvet box inside. "I was walking by the shops in London, and this caught my eye in the window, and I had to have them for you - "

"Robert!" she gasped as she opened the lid and then lifted up the box to look closer at the contents.

" - because they are the exact color of your eyes," he finished, looking down at the earrings he had chosen and then back up at her stunned expression. They were large sapphires surrounded by smaller diamonds. The stones were set in a square shape that hung to a separate diamond that lay against the earlobe.

"Oh darling," she gushed, "these are truly exquisite. I've never seen anything the like. You really shouldn't have, Robert," she said, but she was running the tips of her fingers over the stones and he knew she already loved them.

He remembered the cool heavy feel of them in his hand at the shop, the owner talking on about the exclusive setting and stone from Russia, and all he could think of was the color of Cora's eyes, and her wearing them, and the way they would dangle against the soft skin of her neck, and how much he loved to kiss her there, and before he knew it, he was paying for them and asking them to be gift wrapped. He hadn't purchased any jewelry for Cora for a long time - there were many family heirlooms and she had a few treasured pieces from early in their marriage. He had bought her new earrings at each of the births of the girls, and the strand of pearls a year or two ago, but there had been an unspoken agreement between the two of them to not purchase anything large or expensive for the other. Watching the estates and lifestyles of their friends and fellow landowners slowly disappear around them had made them both want to be more cautious in their expenditures in the past few years, at least for each other. But once he saw these in the shop window, he couldn't resist.

She gazed back and forth between the jewels and him, her eyes shining. "Thank you, darling," she murmured, brushing her lips against his. "They are beautiful. I'm not sure what I did to deserve them, but thank you." She kissed him again, and again, slowly, her hand on his cheek and then her fingers in his hair. Even with her cold feet under his legs and the December chill in the room as the servants hadn't come in to relight the fire yet, early as it was, he felt warm all over when he leaned back from their kiss to look at her.

"You deserve the world, Cora."

She shook her head. "I don't want the world. All I need is you."

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. "You've got me."

She sighed happily and snuggled closer to his side, leaning her head on his shoulder, gazing down at the open box and turning the earrings side to side to catch the stones in the light. "You said my eyes, but to me the color of these reminds me so much of the ocean, Robert."

"Does it?" he asked. "We haven't seen the ocean in quite some time . . ." he offered, suddenly anxious about what she would say.

"No," she agreed. "Sometimes I really miss it - hot summers in Newport and the sand under my feet and the way it smells and the way it sounds . . ." she drifted off for a moment and then sat up suddenly and turned to look at him, placing a hand on his chest. "Robert! We should go to the shore! Oh, wouldn't that be lovely? Maybe sometime in the spring or the summer. That would be plenty of time for us to organize something. Surely they can manage the estate and the hospital for a few days without us. We could take the grandchildren. It would be such a treat to see their faces when they see it for the first time. What do you think?"

"Oh, um," was all he could manage, suddenly flustered and unsure of what to say. "Well, that's definitely an idea."

She frowned and looked away. "Oh. You don't want to leave Downton, I suppose."

"No, no, it's not that at all," he rushed to assure her, taking her chin in his hand. "I think they'd do fine without me. They already do. I just - well. We should just wait and see."

"Wait for what? We're not getting any younger, Robert, and in a few months time, I'm sure I'll be able to leave the hospital staff for a few days. I will probably be desperate to get away for a few days, come to think of it. It would be so nice to have something like that to look forward to."

Torn over what exactly to say to her without ruining the gift she would open downstairs, he simply took her face in his hands and kissed her. "It's a lovely idea, Cora. I'd love to visit the shore with you come summer. I'm sure everyone will agree you're always full of lovely ideas. But for now," he reached for the jewelry box in her hand and set it on the nightstand, turning back and placing his hands on her arms and gazing into her eyes. "For now," his eyes drifted over her features and the curves of her body against the fabric of her gown, and then slowly brought his hands up to cup the back of her head to pull her forward to him. "At this very moment, my dear," his voice dropped and her eyes sparkled with sudden understanding, "I have a few ideas of my own we need to work out."

"Oh, do you?" she sighed as his lips found her cheek, her jaw line, and moved lower down her neck. She leaned into his kiss and gasped when he opened his mouth against her skin, his tongue and lips hot over her collarbone as he moved the neckline of her nightgown away.

"I do indeed. There are traditions to attend to," he whispered, and she shivered at the effect of his breath on her skin, wet from his ministrations. "Are you cold, dearest?" he asked with fake concern, pulling her body closer and kissing her chest through her gown.

"I, ah, oh," she swallowed back a moan as his mouth opened over her breast through her gown.

He held her against his tongue for a moment and she shivered again when he pulled back to look at her nipple hardening against the material in response to his touch. He moved quickly to work at her other breast, moaning quietly at her small whimpers as that nipple rose to attention as well.

"Look here. This nightgown is positively useless at keeping you warm, my dear," he shook his head, looking at her with a twinkle in his eye.

She looked at him through slightly hooded eyes for a moment before grinning. "Useless? In that case . . ." she moved out from the covers to her knees, straddling his lap and grinner wider as she watched his expression change. In one quick movement she pulled at the hem of her gown and brought it up over her head to toss behind her. She watched as he looked down her and nearly laughed when his eyes widened considerably.

"Oh. You've no knickers on, either. No wonder you're cold," he said dumbly, his hands reaching for her hips.

"No, I don't," she answered, satisfied with the effect of her surprise.

"That is an interesting development," he added, eyes still fixated on her body.

"Well," she began coyly, "I didn't think they'd mean much this morning anyway, so - oh!" His lips found her neck again and she rose up over him, her body already beginning to move passionately against him, pushing down into his lap in search of friction.

"Take your hair down, Cora, please," he mumbled, his mouth open and moving over her chest, his hands pulling her lower body closer to him so she could feel the beginnings of his arousal. She released the ribbon of her braid and ran her fingers through its pattern to loosen it until her curls came tumbling down. "My God, you're so beautiful, Cora" he moaned, gazing up at her. His palms reached up to cup her shoulders, grazing her neck and into her hair to bring her face down to his. "So very, very beautiful. I must have you."

"Robert, Robert," she sighed into their kiss. Their mouths met again and again as her hands went to his buttons and he shoved the bedcovers and his clothing away. He pushed her to her back and kissed his way down her body until she was crying out his name, cradling his head between her legs. Her whispered "take me" spurred him on as he stretched over her, and soon they were a tangle of sweaty limbs and a shared chorus of gasps and moans until they both found the stars in each other's embrace.

"I think it's now officially a merry Christmas, Robert," she whispered into his ear, her fingers curling in his hair as she kissed his neck slowly until he rolled off onto his back.

"Happy Christmas, my dear wife," he returned, still breathing heavily with a hand on his chest as his heart rate started to slow back to normal. "It is a happy Christmas indeed." He opened up his left arm to her and she rolled into his warmth as he reached down and pulled the covers back her. "Here. I'm quite heated still but I know you."

"You do know me," she snuggled happily, wrapping her arm around his middle as he spread his free arm and leg out from under the covers to cool down.

They stayed close for a few moments, Cora idly stroking his chest as he lazily pressed kisses to her hairline, until she sighed in signal. "I think it's time we rang to get dressed, darling. I don't want to miss too much of the morning. As lovely as this has been with you." She smiled up at him and he nodded.

"As you wish, dearest."

She sat up, the covers slipping from her shoulders, and regarded him for a moment. He watched her eyes fall to his scar, still puckered from the surgery, even now. Her hand reached out and lightly covered it. "I am so glad you are mine, Robert," she said softly. "This Christmas and every Christmas."

His hand found hers. "Me, too, Cora. So very glad. Now lets go join our beautiful family. You still have a gift for me waiting under the tree," he reminded her. "And after this morning, you have very much earned something special," he teased.

She laughed merrily. "So have you, darling. And you're welcome to collect what you're due sometime soon . . . perhaps this afternoon?" She threw him a suggestive glance as she slipped her house robe on reached for the bell to ring for Baxter.

"I'd be delighted," he leaned over to kiss her smile before she walked into the washroom, and then he rolled off the bed to begin searching for his own night clothes on the floor, where they'd been thrown haphazardly in their passion. As he walked to his dressing room to call for Bates, he glanced back into the room at the stockings Cora had rehung by the fireplace, and the picture frame propped on his nightstand. He knew the love he and Cora shared was rare among their kind of people. He silently thanked God for his wife, his family, and his home. "A happy Christmas," he murmured to himself. Remembering Cora's gift she still hadn't opened and the wrapped surprises for the grandchildren downstairs, he felt excited about all there was still to come in the day and in their lives as he looked back to the portrait of George, Sybbie, and Marigold before he shut the door. "A happy Christmas, indeed. And it's only just beginning."

 **Author's Note:** _I wrote this thinking (somewhat subconsciously at first) of the storyline continuing into another fic I wrote, "With You" ( s/11261891/1/With-You) before realizing it was a little crazy to connect them, as "With You" is modern AU and I wrote before seeing Season 6, so some details are different. However, I still think it makes a nice companion piece, if you go in knowing you're about to time travel. :)_

 _Merry/Happy Christmas, Coberts! Group hug as we face the finale. Best. Ship. Ever._


End file.
